Rival Forces (K-9 Rescue #4)

Gunnar was swearing softly by the time Kye finished rebandaging the arm. And his complexion seemed to be draining away behind his deep tan. He needed liquids, and probably some kind of sedative. But he wasn’t complaining.

“Think you can scare up some painkillers from the clinic, Yard? I figure Dr. Gunnar will know which he can safely take and at what dose.” He glanced at his patient. “Of course, you won’t get the cherry flavoring.”

Yardley passed a worried glance between the two men before she turned to leave.

“Take Oleg. For safety.”

She nodded, grabbing the dog’s leash. Lily had long ago curled up under the bunk the doc occupied.

When she left, Kye turned to David. “Start talking and make the words count.”

Gunnar watched Kye for a moment, and Kye knew he was weighing his options. “How long have you known Yardley?”

Kye glanced at the door. Yardley would make that the fastest trip possible. “I trained under her father about a dozen years ago.”

“Why do you call her Yard?”

“All her friends do.” The doc was getting exactly one more question before it was his turn again.

“You’re more than a friend.”

Kye held the man’s gaze. He knew what he was asking. “We’ve got a lot of shared history. First her father. Then I served with her brother in Afghanistan.”

The doctor blinked. “I didn’t know she had a brother.”

“If you want to know more about Yard, you’d better ask her.”

A sketch of a smile appeared on Gunnar’s face. “She’s a very independent and private person. It’s one of the things I like best about her.”

Kye flicked him a look. “Let’s cut to the chase. I haven’t called the authorities because she asked me not to. But I don’t trust her judgment about you. You put her through hell. So you don’t get to come here with your wounded-warrior act and lean on a woman whose only real flaw, in my opinion, is her weakness for you. You need to tell the truth about what’s going on. Then let her decide if she wants to be part of your bullet-dodging world. Do we understand each other?”

“That’s a lot of talking for an uninvolved man.”

“Yeah. I work alone a lot. You should ask my dog Lily about how I can chatter on.”

“You have feelings for Yard.”

“Well, I’m just a touchy-feely kind of guy.”

“Does she know?”

“If it mattered do you think I’d be talking to you instead of hauling your ass out of here?”

Gunnar gave him a long look. “I haven’t done anything illegal.”

“Tell Yard the whole truth. She’s a big girl. She can deal. If she wants to. If she doesn’t, I’m going to be a bigger problem than anything you’ve got going now.”

Yardley came back then, moving in a hurry, Oleg at her heels. “I found several meds that might work. But we need to move David to the house. It’s freezing in here. And the weather is getting worse.”





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Yardley sat beside her bed watching the handsome man propped up on her pillows. How many times during the last three months had she lay in this bed wishing David could be here with her? Now he was. Yet all she could think about was being overheard by the man on the other side of the closed bedroom door.

Maybe that was because what David had explained to her so far about what lay behind his sudden disappearance was a long way from reassuring. The fake drug industry, that’s what David had set himself against. He was a witness in a government task force to take down traffickers in bogus pharmaceuticals. She didn’t have to ask if it was dangerous. He’d been in protective custody, waiting until he could give testimony in a trial. And when he left, he’d been shot. She had a thousand questions but he was very weak, and getting more so by the moment. There was one, at least, that demanded an answer.

Her gaze strayed to his wound. “You haven’t told me who shot you.”

“The less you know the safer is it for everyone.” His expression was strained by pain since she and Kye half carried him to the house. He was gray-faced by the time they got him into bed. He had rallied a little after sips of Gatorade, green tea, and a couple of the heavy-duty pain meds she’d found in her bathroom cabinet. She’d kept them after healing from a muscle pulled while demonstrating how to rappel down a thirty-foot wall with a K-9 strapped on.

“You’ve got to give me something, David.” She locked eyes with him. “Why did you come here?”

“You.” His smile winked in. It didn’t have a firm perch on his lips.

“I never gave you any personal information. How did you know how to find me?”

“The FBI.” He closed his eyes, the effort to speak taxing him. “They told me you had come to them for help finding me.” His eyes opened again, searching hers with a seriousness she’d never before seen from him. “Is that true?”

She nodded, feeling acutely uncomfortable. “If that’s the only reason you came, you shouldn’t have.”

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